alvar west coast          
                                        
                                          
 going  south by  the  rocky  shore.  the 
     montaneous shore, the cliffs and     
      ravines, and the oceans raving.     
                                          
 watch your  step or, or your wheels,  if 
 youre such  a  being,  for  to  the west 
 lies  the  sea.  and  to  the  east  are 
 thorny bushes, large  as  trees but also 
   miniscule, camouflaged in the grass.   
                                          
     old territories poke through and     
 resurface.  never  mind  them, but maybe 
 the  beauty  in  their  walls   tell  us 
 something. i  admire the way they strech 
 over  the land to  the  eastern  shores, 
      but never north, never south.       
                                          
 the road  is old and broken,  and  would 
 stress your joints, even if you were  to 
 never   leave  it  (which  you  should).